Doctor Who: Father of Time Trilogy Pt2: Game On
by Lina-Baggins
Summary: The Tenth Doctor and his new companion Sandi are back in a thrilling new adventure! Can the Doctor get his game on in time to save the world from a sentient video game created using Gallifreyan technology? Or will it cause a worldwide brainstorm?
1. Chapter 1: Earthbound

Doctor Who: Game On.

_Author's Note: Thanks to all who followed the first part of the FoT trilogy, Father of Time. When we last left the Doctor and Sandi Jenkinson (former Games Designer), they had discovered the Time Lord sanctuary ship _Utopia_, which housed the bodies of the last six living Time Lords to make it off Gallifrey alive. On discovering that a vicious alien race known as the Zriekas, who were allies of the Daleks during the last time war, were on board and planned to kill the remaining Time Lords after using the Doctor to reawaken the weaponry they scavenged from Gallifrey, the pair conspired to stop them. But Sandi had discovered something else; that she was hosting the consciousness of the Source of Time, a Time Lord named Shandaiah, with unlimited power over time and space. By allowing Shandaiah to save the Doctor and destroy the ship, Sandi sacrificed her own life as her brain was too unstable to be left alone. She died in the Doctor's arms when Shandaiah teleported them aboard the TARDIS before the _Utopia_ exploded. Shandaiah's body was destroyed in the blast, causing her revert back to a ghost-like form._

_With the Doctor's permission, Shandaiah reinhabited the body of Sandi, which caused the regeneration of Sandi's brain. Shandaiah reached into the depths of space and time and pulled Sandi's soul back from the edge of oblivion. With her body regenerated, Sandi awoke, a little worse for wear, but very much alive. The Doctor, relieved at the regeneration of his new companion, offered her a "job" as his assistant._

_Now, a strange text message from Earth has made it to Sandi's phone telling her that there is something terribly wrong back home. Its up to the Doctor and his new assistant to discover what it is in this, the new adventure of the Doctor and Sandi!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own nor have any affiliation with any of the companies mentioned. The Doctor Who characters and rights belong to the BBC. Final Fantasy, Spyro and Ratchet & Clank are property of Sony. I just wanted to take their characters out for a spin._

Chapter One

'What do you mean, there's something wrong? How can there be? Wait... how is you phone even _working_?' The Doctor asked, puzzlement etched on his face. Sandi tossed him the phone as she dashed past and started fiddling with the TARDIS controls.

'I upgraded, well, when I say _I_, what I _really_ mean is Shandaiah acted _through_ me and upgraded the phone. We... er, "borrowed" a bit of the TARDIS. Sorry.'

'Sorry? You steal a bit of my ship and all you can say is _sorry?!?_ You could've severely damaged it! You could have taken an important piece of equipment! You could've nicked the temporal destabliser! One of the wormhole refractors! A piece of quasar scanning...'

'_Or_, just a piece of the air-conditioning,' Sandi said, flicking a switch. The Doctor pulled open the phone, stared at it, then shut his mouth. Grumbling, he strode up next to his new assistant, who pointed didn't look at him and continued to activate the console.

'Explain something to me.'

'Fire away.'

'Why is it that I said "Never EVER touch the controls of the TARDIS" and yet here you are, fiddling with my buttons and flicking my switch?'

Sandi turned slowly and faced the Doctor, who stood bemusedly staring at her. She stifled a laugh and fought to keep her face straight. He frowned at her.

'What?'

'I suggest... you think very_ hard_ about what you just said, Doctor,' Sandi giggled as she locked in the co-ordinates for Earth, 2007. The thought sunk in and the Doctor's face twisted in shock.

'Sandi Jenkinson! Of all the rude and underhanded thoughts...'

'D'ya mind not sky-larking about over there? I need another pair of hands.'

'This _is_ my ship, y'know.'

'Good, glad we cleared that up. Now go stand over there like a good little Time Lord and double-check those co-ordinates and settings.'

Unaccustomed to being told what to do inside his own TARDIS, the Doctor stood rigid as Sandi continued to fool about with the controls.

'D'ya mind telling me how you know exactly _how_ to operate this TARDIS?'

'I don't. I'm just sort of... guessing. It's like it's coming naturally now.'

'Great, just great. Wonderful. So, basically, you have absolutely _no_ idea what the hell you're doing with equipment that's _far_ beyond your level of thinking and you think "hey, let's just fiddle about with it and hope that we get home", is that about right?'

'Sounds right, yeah.'

The Doctor shoved her aside and stood hunched at the controls, shaking his head.

'Bloody apes, think you know everything. Right, now where were we?'

Sandi sidled up and leant against the controls, innocence dripping from her grin that she offered up to him.

'You were yelling at me because I nicked a bit of the air conditioning unit to upgrade my phone and we were heading back to Earth because I got a text from Nicola saying that there was something terrible going on.'

'Ah, yes. Well. That was very naughty of you. Right. Back to Earth, then,' the Doctor said cheerfully, throwing a lever. The TARDIS bucked wildly, sending Sandi and the Doctor flying. Sandi crashed into a pillar and clung on for dear life, while the Doctor, who was laughing manically, slammed into the couch near the control and began hammering on the panels with a rubber mallet.

'Prepare for LANDING!!!' The Time Lord roared over the noise. Sandi laughed heartily with her travelling companion as the TARDIS crashed to the ground and skidded to a halt. The Doctor leapt to his feet.

'Right, I'd say we're here. About six o'clock in the morning, I shouldn't wonder.'

'That's insane. We've been gone longer than nine hours.'

'Go outside if you don't believe me, then,' he said, folding his arms and leaning against the controls. Sandi gave him an odd look, before striding down the ramp and opening the doors of the TARDIS and peering outside. The morning fog had settled on Eversleigh Street Park and the only people around were two joggers and a very surprised looking, middle-aged man walking a St. Bernard. Sandi poked her head back inside the TARDIS.

'You know, I think it _is_ about six AM. What day is it?'

'It _should_ be the day after we left. The front door should still be in the television if we're lucky.'

'Oh God. Nicola is _not_ going to be happy.'

The Doctor laughed, jogged down to join Sandi and grabbed her hand, gently squeezing it.

'C'mon. We better go check on your friend, see if she's alright.'

---------

Nicola Catriona Mills stood staring at the chaotic mess that had once been her living room. It looked like a herd of wild bulls had come charging through the front door and window of her second storey apartment only to follow it up by square dancing on the remains. Her front door was currently lodged in the screen of her television and her flatmate was nowhere to be seen. The police had come and gone late the night before, but they had drawn a complete blank as to how the front wall had exploded and the whereabouts of her flatmate.

She had sent a frantic message to Sandi two hours previously, hoping that she was just out on a big night on the town. Unlikely as it was, though. Sandi hardly ever left the flat unless it was to go to work. Nicola shook back her waist-length, blonde hair and trudged sleepily into the kitchen.

'Helloooo!? Nicola? Don't worry, its just me!'

Sandi scrambled over the rubble in the lounge room, closely followed by the Doctor, who slipped on a piece of broken wood and tumbled over. As Sandi helped pull him to his feet, Nicola wandered back in, rubbing her eyes with one hand, cup of coffee in the other. She raised an eyebrow.

'I won't ask where you found him, but I have to say, you've got great taste,' Nicola said approvingly as the Doctor leant on Sandi to steady himself. Sandi frowned.

'What's that supposed to mean? Wait! You don't think...?'

'Well, he's tall, dark and handsome. Why not?'

'Oh, for heaven's sake! Look, he saved my life last night...' Sandi trailed off, elbowing the Doctor as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and laughed at her. Nicola was looking at her with dubious eyes. Sandi figured that it was time to shut up and make the introductions.

'Whatever. Look, Nicola, this is the Doctor. He's a friend of mine. Doctor, this is my flatmate Nicola.'

'Doctor? Doctor who?'

'Just "The Doctor". Sorry about the mess.'

'You mean, you did _this_?!?'

'No he did not! Nicola, apart from the catastrophic mess in the living room, are you alright?'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. The police were at a total loss to explain as to how the wall collapsed. No signs of explosives, no possibility of a car wreck, nothing.'

'Not surprising. Ion cannons don't leave a residue,' the Doctor muttered, picking his way through the debris, past Nicola and into the kitchen. Nicola stared at the newcomer bemusedly.

'And... _where_ exactly did you pick this one up? I gotta say, he's a _lot_ weirder than the last one you brought home,' she said, watching the Doctor open the fridge and search for something to eat. Sandi scratched her head.

'I doubt you'd believe me if I told you.'

'You're right, I don't think I would,' Nicola replied distractedly, watching the Doctor chuck out a lump of cheese over his shoulder. He peered over the top of the fridge.

'Tell me you've got better food than this in your cupboards,' he said, feigning desperation and holding up half a loaf of bread. Sandi laughed and looked over at her flatmate.

'Look, how about I take you and Mr. Critical over there out to breakfast, huh? Maybe I can explain better then.'

---------

Sandi straightened her khaki army-style dress and fluffed her hair as she stared appraisingly into the mirror. The three had agreed that going out for breakfast while two of them were wearing tattered, blood-stained clothes would not have been a good look. So the Doctor had gone back to the TARDIS to grab a fresh shirt and a clean suit while Sandi had hogged the shower for a good half hour, washing the dried blood out of her hair. Now she stood in front of the mirror, fresh-faced, looking like it was her first day at university.

'You ready? Your flatmate's driving me...' came a voice from the door. Sandi whipped around. The Doctor stood in the doorway, his hair still visibly damp from a recent shower, dressed in a clean brown pinstripe suit with a white shirt and black tie. He smiled gently at her.

'You really scrub up nicely, don'tcha?'

Sandi blushed slightly and gave a quick spin.

'You think so?'

'All things considered, sure, why not?'

'What do you mean, "all things considered"?' Sandi asked indignantly as the Doctor nudged her aside, hogging the mirror. He borrowed a comb, raked it through his hair and grinned mischievously.

'I mean, considering you're human,' he chuckled, only to have his arm slapped hard. Nicola poked her head around the door.

'Are you two done chatting? I'd like to get going, since I'm _starving_ and all,' she complained. The Doctor grinned boyishly, rubbing his arm where Sandi had hit him.

'Yup, all done. Lets eat!'

---------

'So you expect me to believe that last night, you went travelling in time, met an alien...'

'_Several_ aliens, Nic. Including the one sitting next to me.'

'Okay, okay, _several_ aliens including the one sitting next to you, got yourself killed, came back from the dead, hosted the source of all time and space inside your head and blew up a spaceship?'

'Sanctuary ship. There's a difference.'

'And he's an alien? The Doctor, he's an alien.'

'Time Lord, actually. Nice bloke when you strip the sarcasm away.'

Nicola breathed out a long sigh. She stared at the Doctor, who was picking his way through a plate of fast-cooling chips. He looked up and grinned winningly at her. She screwed her face up at him.

'Is she telling me the truth? Are you really an alien?'

'Well, to_ you_ I'm an alien, I s'pose. To me, you're the alien.'

'That's very reassuring. What makes you think that I actually believe any of this?'

'We can show you the TAR...' Sandi trailed off, taking the hint from the Doctor's pointed glare. She closed her mouth. Obviously, the Doctor was uncomfortable with the idea of too many people knowing about the TARDIS. Nicola gave her a questioning look.

'What?'

Sandi smiled and shrugged.

'Nothing. Look, what was that text all about? I mean, you look fine. Why did you think that I was in trouble? Come to think of it, why on _earth_ did you think it had anything to do with me?'

'Well, when I got home from work, the front wall was gone and so were you. I thought something terrible must've happened to you.'

'I appreciate the sentiment. I assume you called the cops after I got home.'

'Yeah, while you were in the shower. I told them that you were out all night, clubbing.'

'Smooth. Listen, d'you think you can look after _him_ until I get home from work? It's just that I don't think that he'd fit in around there.'

The Doctor looked up, a chip hanging from his mouth like a cigarette.

'Waif a minnit, I fawt at oo err comin wiff ee? Woff oo neef oo gof oo wurf or?'

Nicola started laughing hard as Sandi pulled the offending chip from the Doctor's mouth. He grinned sheepishly.

'I'll try that again. I thought that you were coming with me? Why do you need to go to work?'

Nicola stared at Sandi.

'You going somewhere? And you weren't gonna tell me? Some friend you are!'

Sandi sighed and threw up her hands. She turned to Nicola.

'Look, the Doctor has offered me a job. There's a lot of travelling involved, so I won't be home much. You can sublet my room if you want. I'll crash on the couch when I get home.'

'But, what about your job at Torchlink Games? They're gonna want to know where you're going. You know what they're like.'

Something about the name caused the Doctor's ears to perk up and his mind to spin as his new assistant nodded, rolling her eyes.

'Sorry, but did you just say_ Torchlink _Games?'

Sandi nodded.

'Yeah, it's the games company that I work for. Why, is there something wrong?'

The Doctor sunk back into the plush bench, his long fingers pressed against his temples. His dark brown eyes flashed in Sandi's direction. She could almost see what he was thinking.

'Oh no, you are _so_ not...'

Sandi sighed and looked over at Nicola, who shrugged. She looked back at the Doctor, who waited expectantly, his face awash with hopefulness.

'Oh... _alright_ then.'

---------

The central headquarters of Torchlink Games, Inc, was a relatively new contruction, just down the road from Canary Wharf. The steel structure rose fifteen storeys up and had the company's name in burnished bronze lettering above the entrance. The Doctor stood in the front of building, looked up and gave a low whistle.

'Well, they certainly didn't go for the understated look, did they? Nope, just a big ol' building smack-bang in the middle of town,' he quipped. Sandi shifted her black duffle bag higher on her shoulder.

'It's not much, but it's a job,' she said, taking his hand and dragging him inside. The lobby of the building was just as impressive as the outside. It was a large, dark room, the lack of light due mainly to the tinted windows. A mahogany desk marked where reception stood, directly in front of the doors. Behind the desk, the room narrowed into a short hall, at the other end of which opened into another large, dark room full of blinking computer screens. The Doctor nodded, impressed.

'Nice, very nice. So... where _exactly_ do you work?'

'Third floor. Design and Development. Loads of fun, really. It just sounds boring as all hell.'

'So you... think up the games, then programme them. _Very_ interesting.'

'Oh, you know. Pays the rent, wastes the day. Keeps the imagination afloat. Oh, here we go.'

Sandi had arrived at the double-doors of a concealed lift. She punched in her third floor code and waited for the elevator to arrive at the ground floor. The Doctor looked around.

'So... who _owns_ Torchlink, exactly?'

Sandi looked at him incredulously.

'You mean, you don't know? Nine hundred years of wandering in time and space and you have no idea who owns the biggest gaming company in the UK?'

'Well, if I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?'

Sandi shook her head sadly.

'Sheesh, I dunno. Torchlink is an off-shoot of Torchwood.'

The Doctor's blood ran cold. His face darkened, then drained of colour.

'Did you just say _Torchwood_? As in, alien-artifact-salvaging-attempting-to-wipe-me-off-the-planet-and-cause-of-the-rift-collapsing Torchwood? _That_ Torchwood?'

Sandi looked at him as if he was going slightly mad.

'Err... yes to the alien artifact salvaging, but I don't know to the rift -collapsing bit. All I know is that when the Daleks and Cybermen invaded Earth, Torchwood was exposed to the world. In order to show the public that there was nothing to be afraid of, they developed Torchlink Games; a marriage of modern alien equipment and human gaming technology to provide to the most realistic gaming experience available, which opened about a month after the invasion. They hired the best in the business, which is why I'm here. Top marks at college, amazing imagination... got the job as soon as I applied. Honestly, I still don't see how its possible that you haven't heard of the biggest video game company in Northern Europe. Even the Americans are getting on the Torchlink bandwagon.'

The lift doors pinged quietly open. The Doctor's mouth dropped open. Sandi stepped inside, as if nothing had happened.

'Come on. You'll be wanting to see the rest of the building.'

He stepped inside the lift. The doors slid smoothly shut and the lift rocketed upwards. The Doctor turned to Sandi.

'So... you know that the equipment that you're working with is alien technology. Right. So, how come when I showed you _my_ alien technology, you reacted as if you'd never seen anything like it before?'

'Torchlink limits the amount of access that the designers and developers have to the alien technology. Console Development is a different department. We're given the parameters we can work within and the rest is up to us. But there is something that I want to show you, something you might be interested in,' Sandi replied, as the lift slid to a halt. The doors reopened into a more brightly-lit room full of computers and cubicles. She stepped out and swept across the floor towards the far end of the room, where a lone laptop and cubicle stood. The Doctor followed, nervous but intrigued by the sudden turn of events.

Sandi stopped by the laptop. It was just a normal computer with a screensaver that declared it **PROPERTY OF TORCHLINK GAMES: DESIGN AND DEVELOPMENT**. Next to it was what looked like a pair of wraparound sunglasses. She handed these to the Doctor. He eyed them suspiciously. Sandi sighed heavily.

'Look, they don't bite. This is just a virtual reality console, designed to completely immerse you into the game. Trust me, I made them and tested them myself.'

The Doctor gingerly put them on. He could still see through the tinted lenses. He frowned at Sandi.

'Now what?'

'Go stand in that cubicle over there,' she replied, punching in a few keystrokes on the laptop. The Doctor stepped inside the cubicle. Suddenly, the glasses tightened around his head. The room went inexplicably black. The Doctor grabbed the side of his head only to find that he was wearing a helmet, not glasses.

'I understand that you might be panicking around now,' came Sandi's voice. The Doctor whirled around, but he could still see nothing. Suddenly, the floor lit up in a grid of light that stretched out to some distant event horizon. He stared, sagging slightly.

'You are now inside a new gaming experience; the Game Prism. This console immerses the player totally into whatever game he or she chooses to play from any maunfacturer. But that's not the only feature of the Prism. In here, you choose your antagonist, your own form as the protagonist and the platform on which you want to play. For example, you could use the Arbiter from _Ratchet: Gladiator _to take on Sephiroth from _Final Fantasy VII _in the Dojo from _Spyro: Enter the Dragonfly_. Allow me to demonstrate.'

The room suddenly changed. The Doctor found himself holding a massive rocket launcher in a quiet Dojo, complete with softly splashing waterfall and tinkling stream. But standing dead ahead was a tall, thin, mean-looking character with a _very_ long, sharp sword, three large indigo wings, red and black armour and silver hair. He stared piercingly at the Doctor with icy blue eyes.

'You would challenge _me_?'

'That's Sephiroth! Fire the Arbiter! Quick!' Sandi's voice echoed as the samurai drew his sword and rushed towards the Doctor. The Time Lord hefted the launcher onto his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The missile exploded from the gun and rocketed towards the antagonist, impacted squarely in his stomach and left a burning residue of napalm. Sephiroth staggered backwards and looked up blearily. A large green bar appeared above his head.

'What you see is your opponent's heath allocation. When all the green is gone, the enemy is too weak to continue and the fight is yours,' Sandi said, watching the battle from the laptop's screen. The green in Sephiroth's bar disappeared and he sunk to the ground, beaten. Suddenly, he began to dissolve into tiny squares. The Doctor gave a shout as his opponent looked up sadly as he broke into millions of pixelated pieces. A breeze blew the bits away. The Doctor spun wildly, searching for Sephiroth.

'He's gone, Doctor,' Sandi said softly as her friend dropped the launcher on the ground.

'Do you want me to bring you back?'

'Yes,' the Doctor whispered, staring around the Dojo. Barely a moment passed before he was blinking in the harsh light of the cubicle. Sandi leapt up and supported him as he slumped to one side, clawing desperately at the glasses.

'Oops, careful there, sunshine. We better get you a seat,' she said gently as the Doctor sagged on her shoulder. She half-dragged him over to her comfy chair by the laptop and sat him down. Unhooking the glasses and placing them carefully beside the laptop, Sandi checked the Doctor's eyes. They weren't focussing properly, so she gave him a glass of water and pushed him back in the chair, so that he was lying flat.

'Easy, tiger. That happens to most people on their first run inside the Prism. Just breathe deeply and rest a bit.'

'What _was_ that?'

'It's Torchlink's brand-new linked gaming console. You can play anywhere, anytime, in a group or on your own. All you need is a set of glasses and a spotter.'

'Spotter?'

'Someone on the outside who can see what's going on. Your link to the outside world who can shut the game down if your mind gets linked in too far.'

'You what?'

Sandi sighed and rocked back on her heels.

'The technology isn't perfect. The console locks into the visual and audio receptors in the brain. But we're having trouble. It locks into the pain centres, too. Whenever your protagonist registers damage, you feel it, too. Trust me, this isn't the kind of pain you want to be feeling.'

'What do you mean?'

'You remember Sephiroth... the guy I set you up against?'

'That samurai bloke who had a big sword to match his big mouth?'

'That would be him, yeah. Well, imagine, if you will, if that sword had cleaved into your side. A razor-sharp cutting weapon designed to inflict the biggest amount of damage it can deliver in the hands of an enemy who _really_ knows how to wield it. Try, if you can, to imagine the type of _pain_ that would cause you. Now imagine that it's all real, at least, it is to your mind.'

The Doctor shuddered and gripped his stomach.

'Then I suppose I should be thanking you for the rocket launcher, yeah? One wrong move and it would have been filet-o-Doctor for dinner tonight.'

Sandi helped him to sit upright. The Doctor's eyes were focussing and he was smiling weakly. She stood up.

'No problem. I've found that the Arbiter is useful for long-range battles. Equipped with the napalm mod, it explodes on impact, which drains the HP of the antagonist quickly. The only thing better would have been a canyon setting with a fusion rifle.'

The Doctor looked at her blankly.

'I have _no_ idea what you just said, which is saying something. When's the release date for this?'

Sandi shrugged, helping him to his feet.

'I reckon it'll take a month or two to work out how to stop the link-up, so, maybe... two months? Three? Not sure. There's something else. Sort of... odd, about the programme that I'm using to recreate the antagonist in the game.'

She sat in the chair that the Doctor had just vacated and pulled it up to the desk where the laptop sat. She lifted up a headset that the Doctor hadn't previously noticed.

'This is what the spotter wears. They use it to communicate with their protagonist and direct their movements. If the spotter notices the enemy or enemies closing in where their friend inside the game can't see, they can alert them through the PA inside the console. The message is delivered right to the audio receptors, improving instant reflex ability. But like I was saying... this programme. It's reacting strangely to the console. I've had to modify it several times to stop a brainstorm in the test subjects at the localisation houses.'

Sandi opened a new window and showed the Doctor the programme's coding. He popped on his glasses, scrolled through the code and frowned.

'I can't see anything _wrong_, per se. It looks just like a standard programme. Nothing out of the ordinary.'

'That's what I thought, until I watched this.'

Sandi clicked on a link on her desktop. It opened a short video clip of a player inside the prism, facing off against what looked like a giant spaceship while they took on the form of a tiny dragon.

'Spyro versus Ansem. Difficult but supposedly lots of fun,' Sandi explained. The Doctor watched carefully. The dragon circled the figurehead of the ship and prepared to launch a fire attack when suddenly, the figurehead twisted, grabbed the dragon by the throat and began throttling it. The clip came to an end just as the figurehead released the dazed reptillian, who flew slightly wobbly off. The Doctor looked seriously up at Sandi.

'What happened? Tell me everything.'

She rubbed her temples.

'It's like the game is adapting to player's attack styles. One of the team at our Cardiff localisation house was testing that level for the third time when Ansem just grabbed him. It's never done that before and never happened in the original game.'

'But you're interfering with the original game's coding, aren't you?'

'To a lesser extent. I have the authorisation from the companies who developed the games originally, but I've tried to stay true to the characters. But they seem to be taking on parameters beyond those I've given them. Like the game has a memory and has been developing new retaliation styles to suit different players. It's the same across the world. I was lucky to stop a mass brainstorm in Madrid during a multi-player testing run.'

'What about me? Did you think that just _maybe_ it could've shorted _me_ out?'

Sandi shook her head.

'Not possible. I modified that version of Sephiroth for my own game. Had I put you up against the real thing, he would have cleaned you out.'

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

'You know, for some strange reason, that doesn't make me feel any better.'

'Good. It wasn't supposed to. I would've binned the project, but the general manager wanted to continue with it.'

'Who's the general manager?'

'Rebecca Granger. Right royal bi...'

'That's enough,' the Doctor cut in. Sandi closed her mouth, while her face darkened. Her companion grinned and tipped her chin up with a deft flick of his hand.

'Come on now, grumpy face. Cheer up. Just think, twelve hours from now, you and I are gonna be zooming around time in a little blue box.'

'Three and a half years studying and I end up chucking it in for a bloke. Sounds about right. Sheesh.'

The Doctor laughed and helped her up. As he did so, a young interdepartmental aide came crashing into the room, clearly out of breath.

'Miss Jenk... Jenkin... Jenkinson... I have... very important... news,' he gasped, struggling for breath. Sandi rushed to his side and helped him into and empty chair. The aide sat gulping for few moments, before staring at her.

'You... you're wanted upstairs. Level fifteen. Becky wants to see you.'

Sandi's face twisted in confusion.

'What? Why? What does she need me for?'

'It's the console, the Game Prism. They've decided to bring the release date forward.'

'What?!?' The Doctor and Sandi responded in unison, the panic clearly present in both voices. The Doctor frowned at the assistant in the chair.

'When? When do they plan to release the console?'

'T... tomorrow.'

---------


	2. Chapter 2: Changing the Job Description

From the look on his face as the lift whooshed upwards, Sandi could tell that the Doctor was thoroughly unamused at the tiny time-frame that Torchlink had presented to her to get the game and redesigned console in a marketable condition. She was wrong, of course. The Doctor wasn't just unamused. He was furious.

'Of all the stupid, idiotic... you humans are just a varied collection of total _thickheads_. How you _ever_ fell out of the trees and began walking around _completely_ eludes me. You find a major, downright _dangerous_ design flaw and instead of pulling the whole thing to _bits_ or chucking it out, oh no, you lot decide "Hey! Let's just throw this out to the public and see who sparks out first"! It's thoroughly insane,' he raged. Sandi stood silently beside, allowing him to continue ranting and determinedly not putting up a fight. She could see his point of view. It was insanity to even _consider_ releasing the console. Sandi remembered the day that she had discovered the flaw.

She had been out of university barely a month when she applied for the design job at Torchlink. Overnight, a mass of jobs regarding computer game creation had appeared in the _Sunday Times_. It was a last resort. Both Sony and Microsoft had turned her down due to her lack of experience. Quite unexpectedly, the same day she applied she was called back to the brand-new steel structure that had suddenly sprung up a block down from Canary Wharf. The general manager, Rebecca Granger, had eyed her resume disdainfully.

'No previous experience?'

'Nope.'

'Just out of university?'

'Yep.'

'Says on your reference here that you have one _hell_ of an imagination.'

'Err... yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right.'

Rebecca had leant back and stared at her thoughtfully.

'Let me explain something to you. At Torchlink Games, we aim to produce cutting-edge consoles with games that completely immerse the gamer inside a world they can escape to.'

'Yeah, I get that. Most gaming companies do.'

'What you probably _don't_ get is that we're going to be using alien technology to extend the parameters within you can work.'

That had shut Sandi up. Rebecca had gone on to explain about the invasion of the Cybermen and the Daleks, how the board of directors of Torchwood had created Torchlink and had decided on exactly _what_ it would be involved in. When she had finished, Rebecca had let Sandi have a few moments to let it all sink in. Sandi had sat up straight.

'Yes?' Rebecca had asked. Sandi had smiled winningly back.

'Does this mean that I have the job?'

On that point, she had been hired. Barely a few days later, she had been back at Rebecca's desk, arguing over the basic programme.

'This is _insane_! You can't market this!' Sandi had raged.

'We can and we _will_, Jenkinson! There is clearly nothing wrong with the game's basic design!'

'Are you mad? Have you actually _played_ it? I had to cut the power and put the _entire_ Madrid localisation team on stand-by for three _hours_ before I could get them out of the prism. The game needs to be scrapped. We can't market it in this condition!'

'Then _fix_ it! It's your problem now! I promoted you to Chief Designer for a _reason_, Jenkinson! Now, get back to work and start puttting that brilliant imagination of yours to better use than fiddling around with that archaic headset! Why you even _think_ that we need spotters I'll never know.'

And that had been that. Sandi had been forced to continually work out the kinks in the disaster of a game that Torchlink that advertised as their first release. The initial date for release had been months away. That had been last week. That had been before the _Utopia_. Before the Doctor...

The lift stopped on level fifteen. The doors hissed open and she found herself standing in the familiar, surgical-white lobby of the top level of the Torchlink building. Windows lined most of the walls, proving just how high up they really where. There was a pale wooden desk with a blonde secretary in a crisp, white blouse in front of the opposite wall. Either side of the desk were two doors. The blonde looked up. She smiled brightly and slightly dim-wittedly.

'Sandi! Hiyyyeee! Sweetie, you just go _right_ on in. Becky's waiting for you. But you, you're just gonna have to wait with me, gorgeous' she said, pointing to the Doctor and winking cheekly. The Doctor raised an eyebrow and let his eyes slide around to Sandi. Sandi grinned wickedly and winked.

'Oh, this is Doctor... John Brennaghan. He's been working with me on the game. He's got clearance, don't you Doctor? Go on, show Merri your clearance,' she said pointedly. The Doctor caught on quickly and whipped out the psychic paper. He handed it cheerily over to Merri, whose forehead wrinkled slightly, as if she was trying to concentrate. She handed back the wallet with a smile.

'Sorry about that, sir, you just go right on in as well,' Merri said cheerily. The Doctor beamed at her.

'Thanks very much! Don't mind if I do,' he said, following Sandi through the door on the left.

'John Brennaghan?' The Doctor murmured, as the door clicked shut behind him. Sandi shrugged.

'Lecturer at uni. Best I could come up with at short notice,' she muttered back. He grinned slightly as they entered the next room.

The room they entered was not so different to the lobby behind them. The only difference was the semi-circular desk over by the window that was neatly arranged with black and silver office supplies including a black LCD monitor, notepad and silver pen. Sitting behind the desk was a tall, willowy woman with pale skin and searing blue eyes. Her hair was shoulder length, straight and the kind of red that you could only get out of a bottle. The name plaque on her desk declared her to be **REBECCA GRANGER, B.IT, hons. GENERAL MANAGER**. She peered over the monitor as the pair entered. When she spoke, her accent was almost londonish, the Doctor thought, but the kind of london accent that's picked up after you've moved from another european country.

'Sandi, about time, too. Who is this?'

'Doctor John Brennaghan, Rebecca. He's a doctorate from Oxford in nanotechnology and information technology. He's been helping me make head-way with the faults in the game,' Sandi said quickly. The Doctor looked thoroughly impressed with her speedy explanation. He smiled warmly.

'I have my credentials, if you would like to be certain,' he said, helpfulness dripping from his voice, hand already reaching for the psychic paper. Rebecca waved a well-manicured hand.

'No matter. You are of no consequence here, sir. I'd appreciate it if you waited outside,' she said politely, but with a distinctly cold edge. Sandi's eyes narrowed.

'And _I'd_ appreciate him being present, if you _don't _mind,' she snapped back. Rebecca raised a plucked eyebrow.

'If you insist, Jenkinson. But I must make this brief. I assume Anderson informed you of our intentions regarding the console's release?'

'Yeah, yeah he did and you must be mad to think that you're going to pull this off! Didn't you watch the last clip that I sent you? We almost _lost_ one in California last week!'

Rebecca's face darkened.

'With or without you, Jenkinson, we _will_ market this console _and_ it's companion game. If you can't do your job well enough then I will simply find someone else to do it for you!'

Sandi went silent for a moment. Rebecca's face slowly twisted into a look of understanding and she half-rose from her ergonomic chair.

'Wait a moment... you're... you're not _leaving_, are you?'

The Doctor cleared his throat. Rebecca's boring glare snapped across to him.

'Yes?'

'Ah. Yes. Well. I've offered Sandi a position as my, er, research assistant. Y'know, researching the target audience for certain games and such. It's a lot of travelling and the pay's a bit rubbish, but she's agreed and I'm rather glad she has. So, we just thought that we'd stop in and give you notice.'

'Oh? When are you leaving?' Rebecca asked icily. The Doctor shrugged.

'In around twelve hours. You know, women. You all love to pack up and say goodbye to everyone you've ever met.'

Rebecca leant back in her chair, folding her long arms defensively.

'And what, might I ask, do you have to do with all of this? Jenkinson here tells me that you've been assisting with the game's development. How much do you know?'

The Doctor could tell that she was a whip-smart woman and decided that it was time to let her in on a few little secrets. He leant forward slightly. Rebecca obliged and rocked forward as well.

'Do you remember Yvonne Hartman? She worked for Torchwood,' the Doctor murmured quietly. If Rebecca had any colour left in her face, it left abruptly.

'How do you know of Yvonne? She's... she's dead,' she whispered, fear obvious in her voice. The Doctor nodded.

'I was there.'

'Are you human?'

'To a greater or lesser degree, no. Not really.'

'Then... then you're the... but you can't be!'

'Why not? I _did_ survive the invasion _and_ the closing of the rift. It cost me more than one life, sadly.'

'Why are you here?'

'Like I said. Sandi is coming with me as my assistant. I'm helping with the game and I'm telling _you_, Miss Granger, that in the state its in, you'll kill too many people! You _can't_ sell it!'

Rebecca leant back, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

'If only it was that simple. I've got pressure from higher up. The Board of Directors for Torchwood are breathing down my neck to get this thing out there. I can't let something like this break down a successful advertising campaign. We've beaten XBOX390 and the Playstation4 for preorders this Christmas. They need to be on shelves by tomorrow! We've already shipped out six million consoles in the UK alone, as well as another five million worldwide. It's impossible. We can't stop it now!'

The Doctor thumped a fist down on her desk, making both women in the room jump.

'Then recall them! If you don't, that programme is going to cause a mass brainstorm the world over! You don't _need_ this! Not after Yvonne's lack of foresight over the rift. Rebecca, you _have_ to listen to me! I've _been_ inside the game! It's _dangerous_!'

Rebecca looked accusingly at Sandi, who looked away and scratched at her nose. She looked back, guilt clearly present on her face.

'What? I wanted his professional opinion! He's an alien, I'm working with alien technology, I thought he might be able to help!'

Her boss looked back at the Doctor.

'And I suppose that you really _didn't_ study at Oxford?'

'Yes. Well, no. Not at _your_ Oxford, anyway. But I do have _loads_ of qualifications!'

'But nothing regarding design and development of video games?'

'Ah. Not as such, no.'

'So, besides the obvious fact that you _are_ an alien, you really are of no consequence and use to us whatsoever.'

The Doctor turned and grinned at Sandi.

'I never thought I'd ever hear a Torchwood employee say _that_.'

'That's Torch_link_, thank you Doctor.'

He faced the head of Torchlink and gave a shallow bow.

'Right then. Nice to meet you, Miss Granger. Very nice. Well, we'll be off then. Good luck with it all. Call us when you're ready to apologise.'

He turned on his heel and started for the door. Rebecca half-rose from her chair again.

'Wait.'

The Doctor stopped and grinned smugly to himself. Setting his face straight, he turned back to face her.

'Yes?'

Rebecca pushed her chair back and opened a thin drawer in her desk. She rifled through some paperwork before straightening and handing two, thin strips of paper over to Sandi.

'If you're going to be here for another twelve hours, perhaps you can do us the honour of attending the launch party tonight,' she said wearily. Sandi frowned at the tickets in her hand, then handed them to the Doctor. Rebecca extended a hand to her.

'No hard feelings, Jenkinson? I trust that you enjoyed the experience of working with us here at Torchlink Games,' Rebecca said, in a rather rehearsed manner. Sandi raised an eyebrow as she shook her hand gingerly.

'Er, yeah. No hard feelings. Though "enjoy" might be stretching it a bit. Best of luck to ya, Becks.'

As she began to leave with the Doctor, Rebecca called after them in an almost cheery voice.

'Don't forget to stop by Personnel on your way out for your care package! Fourth floor, door in the middle.'

Sandi waved a hand behind her as the door clicked shut. Rebecca sat back down and rubbed her forehead. This was proving to be a lot more difficult than she anticipated and now the Doctor was involved.

She opened the desk drawer again and pulled out a photo. A older blonde woman stood next to a gangly teenager.

'I'll set things right, sis,' she whispered.

'This time, things _won't_ go wrong.'

---------

'What was all that about?' The Doctor inquired as they got back into the lift and Sandi pressed the fourth floor button. The doors slid shut.

'Oh, it's a silly quirk of Torchlink. Everytime an employee leaves the company, they get a care package. A sort of "Goodbye and good luck" type of thing. Ridiculous really, but what can you do? It's company policy.'

The Doctor was silent for the remainder of the trip to the fourth floor. Inside his mind, though, he was preparing for the worst on the other side of the lift doors. They hissed open, revealing yet another white lobby. This one, however, was totally enclosed and not as inviting as the fifteenth floor one. There were three doors, each clearly marked with the familiar bronze plaque. He peered at them. In order, from left to right, they read **Public Relations**, **Personnel** and** Industrial Relations**. Sandi pushed through the door in the middle, the Doctor hot on her heels.

The room they entered was different again to those they had already seen. It was painted in a soft pastel blue, with a desk in one corner and a psychiatrist's couch next to it. Behind the desk sat a young man with blonde hair and green eyes obscured slightly behind glasses. Sandi grinned sheepishly at him. He looked up, slightly surprised.

'Jenkinson? What are you doing...'

'I'm off, Brent. Gave Granger my notice and I'm off travelling for a while. Got offered a better job with him,' she said, thumbing in the Doctor's general direction. The Doctor gave the mildly perplexed Brent a small wave and a boyish grin.

'Hello. I'm the Doctor, by the way.'

Brent stood up. He wasn't overtly tall, but his mannerisms implied a height greater than inches.

'I'm Brent. Brent Carlisle. Head of Personnel.'

The Doctor saluted him quickly. Sandi elbowed him in the ribs. He grimaced slightly.

'We're... just here because Sandi insisted on the care package,' the Doctor wheezed. The colour drained from Brent's face.

'Oh my God, you really _are_ leaving? No... I can't... I can't do it... no...' Brent was suddenly hunched over his desk, shaking. The Doctor grabbed Sandi's shoulders as she started forward.

'Brent? What's wrong? You can't do what?'

Brent looked up, his eyes bloodshot. When he spoke, his voice was distorted.

'You must release all your memories regarding Torchlink into my custody. It is company policy that all ideas and creations formed during your employment remain property of Torchlink Games,' he growled, a baritone that was foreign to his usual cheerful banter. Sandi backed into the Doctor, who linked his fingers through hers. He glared at the young man.

'Who are you? What planet are you from?'

Brent grinned manically. His eyes began darting all over the room.

'Carruther Braxus from the planet Braxi III. I am Crown Prince of the immortal city of Loorie.'

The Doctor gulped. He began to edge away from the man.

'He's a Braxan,' he whispered to Sandi.

'A what?'

'A Braxan. They feed off the brainwaves of thousands of slaves kept below the surface of the city. He's basically the organic equivalent to a thumbdrive, only he can store far more information.'

'Then how does he... _get_ the information?' Sandi whispered urgently back, never talking her eyes off the advancing man. Brent licked his lips.

'Just a quick kiss, sweetheart. One kiss and I can scan your brain for anything regarding Torchlink.'

'One kiss and he'll suck your soul out through your mouth,' the Doctor muttered. Sandi grabbed the front of the Doctor's shirt desperately. His eyes widened in surprise.

'But... if he does that... then _that_ means you'll be wiped from my memory too!' Sandi shouted.

She spun to face Brent, her face blazing with anger. Suddenly a soft glow of light surrounded her and her hair appeared almost black...

_Hear this, you creature of time_, Sandi said in an ethereal voice. The alien halted warily. The Doctor stumbled backwards slightly.

_You know __not__ what you are messing with here. Show all due reverence to the Source of all Time!_

For a moment, Brent appeared to be debating on what to do. Sandi therefore seized the oppurtunity to jump and land a solid kick to his right shoulder, sending him sprawling. She spun around and grabbed the Doctor's hand.

'Come on!' Sandi yelled and legged it from the room.

Brent's roars of agony echoed behind them as they thundered down the white-washed corridor. As they ran, Sandi eyed the Doctor dubiously.

'You _knew_ that was going to happen, didn't you?'

'Ah. Yes. Well, no. Not _exactly_ that, but something very similar, yeah.'

'And you felt obligated, as a Time Lord and protector of all that is good and just, to omit the part where you tell me that the head of personnel is a mind-sucking alien and therefore saving my life and ensuring that the future takes it natural course, that of us tearing up this corridor like headless chickens with their tails on fire?'

'Er... yeah. I think that's the general gist of it, yeah.'

'Time Lords,' Sandi sighed exasperatedly as they skidded to a halt at the fire escape stairs, which for some unknown reason, appeared to be locked. The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and winked at his friend. Moments later, with the lock shocked to bits, the doors exploded open and the pair stumbled forward, feet desperate to find the quickest path out. Both could hear Brent's footsteps right behind them.

'Move move MOVE!' The Doctor shouted as he pounded down the stairs. The alien appeared at the top of the flight of stairs above them.

'Quarrantine the building! We have non-sanctioned visitors attempting to leave!' Brent shouted. Sandi sped up.

'Ooooooh, not good, not good, not good!'

'Less talk, more run!' The Doctor yelled over the klaxon that had burst into a wail over their heads. They raced down the remaining flights of stairs and burst through the first floor door. Sandi grabbed the Doctor's hand and yanked him to the right.

'Quick, this way! There's a service passage that leads out the back,' she hissed. She led the way down a narrow corridor that twisted behind the ground floor lobby and opened onto a loading bay where a few unmarked white trucks were parked. The pair ducked behind one of trucks to catch their breath, the sirens still screaming inside the building. The Doctor, still panting slightly, offered Sandi a small smile.

'I guess... they don't... want you to go,' he puffed. Sandi gave a bark of a laugh and peered cautiously underneath. She slumped back against a shiny hubcap and let out a sigh of relief.

'I don't think they managed to follow us, thank goodness. They probably think that we left through the front.'

'How did you know about the service entrance?'

'When you work for an agency like Torchlink, there are a few unwritten, golden rules, the first of which is this: Always find a quick way out for a fast getaway.'

The Doctor laughed and patted her shoulder.

'Oh, well _done_, Sandi Jenkinson, well done.'

He straightened up and glanced around the corner. The entrance was still empty. He extended a hand and helped his companion to her feet. Then he strode off purposefully in the direction of Sandi's flat. She almost had to run to keep up.

'Doctor? Where are you _going_? We've got to stop those consoles being released!'

The Doctor shot her a sidelong glance and grinned wickedly at her. _Oh God, he's got a plan_, Sandi thought desperately.

'Ah, but you see my dear, _sweet_ Sandi, you are forgetting something.'

'What's that?'

The Doctor pulled out the tickets that Rebecca had given them earlier. He chuckled and waved them lazily in the air.

'Tonight, we're going to a _party_.'

---------

'You _lost _them? You lost them. You, one of the best trackers this side of the Milky Way Galaxy lost a Time Lord and a human in fifteen levels of concrete.'

'S'not my fault. The pain in my shoulder interfered with my tracking.'

Rebecca leant back in her chair and glared at Brent, who was rubbing his shoulder where Sandi had kicked him. He looked back guiltily.

'Said I was sorry, 'Becca. Plus, he _is _a Time Lord. They are pretty smart, y'know. He knew I was a Braxan.'

'Then you should have killed them both on principle. You were hired on the basis that you _are_ a Braxan. Can't you track his thoughts at _all_?'

'Nope. He's shielding them and the girl's thoughts are... odd. Before she came back with him, her thoughts were easy to spot. But now, it's like they're being... distorted. It's like picking up static on a television. You can't tell what it is that you're getting or where it's coming from.'

Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose and waved Brent Carlisle of her office. Sandi Jenkinson was becoming more a headache than expected, especially with her potentially dangerous new ally. She really didn't need this.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled slowly. There was no reason to panic. Sandi didn't know the extent of the problem anyway, thankfully. Had she known exactly what had been going on for the last three months, she would have gone directly to the Board of Directors and, well... Rebecca didn't want to think about what could have happened next. She opened her eyes and smiled tiredly. No, there was no need to worry. Let Sandi go. She was of no consequence now.

Rebecca got to her feet and grabbed her handbag from under the desk. She had a party to go to.

---------

'You're _insane_. I mean, I always _knew_ that, but you've just gone and proved it,' Sandi groaned as the Doctor straightened his bow tie and tugged the jacket of his tuxedo down and into place. He grinned at her and patted her shoulder.

'Oh now, come on. I'm not all _that_ mad. Well, _maybe_. But that's beside the point.'

'What, exactly, do you plan on gaining from a trip to a party stocked chockers with people who want to kill us?'

'You'd be surprised at the information people will tell their potential victims before they up and do them in.'

'Heaven save me,' Sandi moaned and flopped down on the bed. The Doctor spun around and looked appraisingly at her.

'What are you going to wear?'

'What?'

'To the launch party, of course! You're not going in that ratty old dress, are you?'

'This is _not_ a ratty old dress, thanks very much and I don't plan on going, anyway. You wanna go risk your life, fine. Just don't expect me to tag along.'

The Doctor knelt in front of her looked up seriously.

'I mean it. I can't do this without your help. I need someone to watch my back. Remember, you signed up to this.'

Sandi matched his stare steadily.

'I didn't think it would involve my life back here.'

'Sandi, after this, your life here won't exist anymore. Everything changes when you leave with me. _You_ change. You have to be prepared for this. When you leave, you can't come back to the life you led before. You can't just... plop back into society. You'll have memories of experiences that no other human in the _world_ has. You'll be alone. Can you handle that?'

Sandi was silent for a moment, then grinned wryly.

'I think, under the circumstances, I can put up with it. After all, how many humans do _you_ know rent out space in their brain for bodiless Time Lords?'

The Doctor smiled gently. He could tell that, behind the bravado, Sandi already felt alone in this world. He stood up and took her hand in his.

'Everyone needs a hand to hold in the universe. Let me hold yours, just for a little while, then, if not forever.'

Sandi squeezed his hand and rested her head on his shoulder.

'No, Doctor. Let me hold yours.'

They stood that way for a minute, silently welcoming the feeling of just the two of them, together. Then the Doctor shifted his weight slightly.

'So... what _are _you going to wear?'

---------


	3. Chapter 3: Espionage Behind Enemy Lines

The launch party was being held on Level Ten, in one of the larger conference rooms. The table had been taken out and the walls were bedecked with silver and gold balloons, streamers and ribbons. It was glittery almost to the point of tacky, Sandi thought, as she entered the already crowded room on the Doctor's arm. After sifting through the clothes in her wardrobe, the Doctor had decided on a chocolate brown halter-neck dress that fell to her knees with an emerald brooch set in front. Easy for running in, he had said cheerily, presenting her with a pair of Grecian sandles that, thankfully, had come from the back of her cupboard rather than the TARDIS.

The bigwigs of every game distributor and major press representation were present; all guzzling glasses of wine and champagne, hooting with laugher at every terrible joke. Sandi clutched the Doctor's arm.

'Let's go home. Can we go home? I'll cook us something nice. We can have chips. Nice chips. In newspaper. Oh _please_, let's go home,' she moaned, tugging at his sleeve. The Doctor stared down at her in amazement.

'You face off against Zriekas, come back from the dead and you're afraid of a few _bigwigs_?'

'They're _disgusting_! Scary, nonsensical, fat, balding idiots who've never played a game in their lives!'

'Oh, come on. They're not all that bad.'

'Oi, you, waiter, I've run out of wine,' came a slurred voice from behind them. The Doctor turned to face a fat man in a tux with a press tag. He handed the Doctor an empty wine glass and staggered forward a bit.

'Blurry good party, innit? No bard it all,' he hiccuped and lurched away. The Doctor stared after him bemusedly, before cracking up laughing. Sandi rolled her eyes.

'Excuse me everyone? Can I please have your attention here for a moment,' came a voice over the generic hubbub of the crowd. Everyone turned to face the front of the room, where Rebecca stood at a lecturn that had Torchlink's seal hanging down the front. Torchlink's frontwoman was dressed in a dusty pink backless dress and her red hair was swept up in a french knot. She smiled warmly at the gathering.

'Welcome to the launch of Torchlink's first venture in the world of gaming, the revolutionary new console, the Game Prism!'

A scattered applause met the announcement. A screen descended behind Rebecca as the lights dimmed. Instinctively, Sandi moved closer to the Doctor, who tightened his grip on his sonic screwdriver in his pocket. On screen, a presentation on the Prism began to play.

_'The Game Prism is the newest advance in gaming technology. Using a fusion of alien technology and modern ingenuity, Torchlink has developed a brand-new game experience to surpass any gaming system currently on the market. Imagine; complete immersion in any game commercially available, __really__ playing as whatever character the gamer chooses. Its revolutionary design borrows aspects from alien technology salvaged by our sister company, Torchwood, applying it to enriching and enhancing a gamer's experience inside the Prism. Ladies and gentlemen, __this__ is the future of gaming!'_

'I think that we should leave. I want a better look around this building,' the Doctor murmured as the presentation continued. Sandi nodded almost imperceptively.

'What do you want to see?'

'Everything. Starting with their distribution records.'

'That'd be in admin, first floor.'

He reached over and squeezed her hand gently.

'Maybe it _is_ time we vamoosed.'

---------

'What are we looking for, exactly?'

'Any file concerning the distribution of the Game Prism consoles and games.'

'Ah, well, since you asked, I just ran a search. There are three million, four hundred and sixty-four thousand, nine hundred and eighty-two files pertaining to those keywords. Where would you like to start?'

The Doctor groaned, rolled his eyes and looked over at Sandi. She was looking at him with a patient, yet rather amused expression on her face. He raised his eyebrows.

'I _suppose_ you think you're funny, don't you?'

'Just a little, yeah.'

'Narrow the search parameters to files created and/or opened in the last week.'

'That cuts it down to... around three hundred thousand.'

'Well. I suppose it's a start. Hmmm. Narrow down to pre-ordered consoles and numbers of distribution.'

'We're down to five thousand. Hang on, let me try the number of distributors.'

'Any luck?'

'Cut it by more than half. We still have two thousand files. Any more ideas?'

'Ah. Lessee... eliminate all the image files that aren't schematics?'

'That _still_ leaves fifteen hundred files. Doctor, this is ridiculous.'

'We _need_ those distribution records. Okay, try all files sent and received by Rebecca Granger and/or any of the CEOs of Torchlink.'

The computer next to him beeped twice. Sandi rubbed her hands together excitedly.

'Ah-hah! _Now_ we're getting somewhere! That's cut it down to just over a hundred files. Think we could split that between us?'

'I think we could,' the Doctor replied, winking cheekily at Sandi. Sandi sighed and sent half the files across to the Doctor's PC. For nearly five minutes, the pair worked in almost total silence, until...

'Got it, well, something that looks like it,' the Doctor said suddenly. Sandi leant over.

'What is it?'

'I have no idea.'

'Gimme a look-see.'

The Doctor pushed his chair back to allow Sandi to peer at the monitor. She scrolled down, speed-reading the facts.

'Oh, this is _so_ not good.'

'You want to elaborate on that?'

'I've got at least seventy-two distributors in the UK alone. The international distributors are going to be at least ten times that in the US alone. World over... I'd expect there's got to be about a hundred different distributors.'

'Oh. That's... not good.'

'Yeah. Not good.'

'Any chance of recalling the whole lot of 'em?'

'You've got a better chance of freezing in hell.'

The Doctor ruffled his hair and rubbed his face. He looked at Sandi expectantly.

'An idea would be _really_ useful right now.'

'Why don't _you _think of one?'

'Ah, but that would be taking all the credit. Besides, I like to encourage lateral thinking in my companions.'

'Which either means you're too lazy to think of one or you've run out of ideas or, my personal favourite, you have absolutely no idea what's going on and no clue as how to stop it.'

'You know, you _really_ know how to put a dampener on things. Remind me why I put up with you.'

'Look,' Sandi said, scrolling down a little further. She pointed to a paragraph on the screen.

'... blah, blah, blah, here we go, "Torchlink's gaming network is expected to connect nearly a million players all over the world in every language". Must have a universal translator. I wonder how they managed that? That wasn't included a month or so ago.'

'Hang on,' the Doctor whispered, reading on.

'It also says that Torchlink's network won't go online until tomorrow afternoon. Sandi, when did the problems first start occuring?'

Sandi scratched her head thoughtfully

'Possibly when we put the multi-player function in. The boys down in Console Development were forced to modify the console with some new technology that Torchwood had released to us.'

The Doctor snapped his fingers, leapt from his chair and grabbed her excitedly by the shoulders.

'Hah! Brilliant! So now we _know_ where the problems started! Sandi, I need you to pull all the schematics from the computer. Every diagram, every instruction kit, every Do-Not-Press _label_ you can find! We need to get to work!'

'Wait, where are you going?' Sandi shouted he sprinted across the floor to the elevator. He winked at her in the dark and punched the up button.

'Up,' he said cheerily.

'Wish me luck!'

---------

The Design and Development department on the third floor was unnaturally quiet at night. If the Doctor had bothered asking Sandi before rushing to the elevator, she would have taken the time to tell him about the mysterious silence. There should always be _some_ noise. But at night, after everyone else had gone home to their families, the third floor was plunged into a vacuum of noiselessness that lasted until morning. No hum of electricity, no whistle of wind outside the windows. Nothing.

So when the doors slid open on the deathly quiet scene, a sudden and unexpected chill ran slyly up the Doctor's spine. He moved with all the stealth of a cat between the desks, closing in fast on the back of the room, where a large screen was built and five consoles hung on their individual hooks. His steps made no sound as he crept up on the hardware, the only light coming from the halogen lamps positioned over the empty workstations. He sidled soundlessly up, hardly believing his luck as he lifted a pair of the wraparounds off its hook and turned them over in his hands.

'Put the console _down_.'

The Doctor froze, fear almost freezing his blood solid in his bicardial circulatory system. He relaxed his shoulders and smiled, turning slowly to lock eyes and match the angry stare of the still-human Brent Carlisle. The furious Braxan was broiling with rage, his face a dark purple. The Doctor allowed the feeling of deep worry that was nagging at his mind to sweep through him as he smiled cheerfully at the alien.

'Ah! Well, if it isn't you! Prince... Carlton, isn't it?'

'Carruther,' Brent growled. The Doctor clapped and nodded.

'_That's_ it. Couldn't quite remember. Well, lovely chatting, should catch up sometime later, have to dash, sorry...'

'You will _wait_.' The statment was final. There was no escaping it. The Doctor sagged slightly, the wraparounds still in his hand.

'Ah. Um. Well, you see...'

'You _will_ wait. You do not have a choice.'

'Yes, well, I don't _like_ ultimatums. They make me itch. So right now, if you don't mind, I'm going to do what I normally do when someone gives me one of those.'

With all the speed of a Western Gunslinger, the Doctor whipped out the sonic screwdriver, flicked it on and pointed it at a computer terminal on Brent's left. The monitor fried instantly, sending angry sparks flying. Brent shouted in pain and threw his arms up to cover his face as the Doctor ducked and ran past. Within a minute, he was at the doors of the elevator. He thumped desperately at the down button as Brent continued to claw at his face, but it appeared that the Braxan has disabled the lift when he had arrived on the third floor. The Doctor sprinted to the stairs and paused in the doorway. He put his fingers to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Brent looked up and squinted across the room at him. The Doctor grinned mischievously.

'What I _normally_ do is run!'

As he bolted down the stairs, the Doctor heard the inhuman scream of the furious Braxan, bellowing in pain and rage. As the Doctor leapt down the last few steps of the first staircase, Brent appeared in the doorway above.

'You will _not_ escape _again_, Time Lord!' Brent roared. Colour drained from the Doctor's face.

'Oh boy,' he groaned. The Braxan began thundering down the steps behind him as the Doctor took off at top speed. He pounded down another two flights of stairs before bursting through the fire escape doors on the ground floor. The Time Lord dashed through the darkened, empty room in the direction of administration. Sandi looked up from the computer screen she had been working at. She watched the Doctor running towards her and grinned, holding up a sheaf of paper.

'Hey! Look what I...' Sandi began, but the Doctor simply grabbed her wrist and yanked her after him.

'No time for chat, more time for running,' the Doctor puffed as he half-dragged the bemused girl out the front doors of the Torchlink building. Sandi opened her mouth to protest, but suddenly noticed Brent Carlisle explode from the fire escape doors. Her feet hit the ground and she sped up, keeping good pace with the Doctor's long-legged stride. He stared at her in puzzlement. She glanced over and gave a half-hearted wink.

'Point taken,' she gasped as the pair hurtled around a corner and slowed to a jog. The papers in Sandi's hand were now thoroughly crumpled as she handed them to the out-of-breath Time Lord the pages. He peered at them closely.

'What are these?'

'They are the blueprints you asked me to get for you. Y'know, the ones on the computer?'

'Oh, _those_ blueprints. Ah. The ones that would go with _this_, I imagine,' he said, holding up the stolen console and grinning from ear to ear. Sandi clapped sarcastically.

'Oh, well _done_! Now you've done it.'

The Doctor's smile slid from his face and was replaced by a puzzled frown.

'What do you mean, "Now you've done it"? I thought we _needed_ this?'

'In case you didn't realise, those morons at Torchlink have my _home_ address! They'll track us down! Hunt us like small, furry creatures! We're done for!'

The Doctor sighed and dug in his left jacket pocket, still clutching the console. He pulled out a small, silver key and waved under Sandi's nose.

'Did you forget that we have the TARDIS?'

Sandi closed her mouth and grinned sheepishly. The Doctor shook his head, took her by the hand and led her away. Behind them, the lights on the tenth floor of the Torchlink building glittered in the dark as the festivities surrounding the console's release continued on into the night.

---------

'You lost him _again_?!? That is IT! I have had _enough_ of you! You are FIRED!'

Brent Carlisle hung his head in shame. This was beneath a Braxan. They were the supreme hunters in the galaxy and _he_ was one of the royal family. Yet here he stood, shame-faced and broken before a livid and red-faced Rebecca Granger who was bellowing in rage. The blonde swept a wisp of hair from her forehead and tucked behind her ear, regaining her temper. She stared coldly at the cowering prince.

'You will explain to me _exactly_ how one man and one... _girl_ managed to infiltrate the party, steal a console and evade capture by one of the greatest trackers in the universe.'

Brent scratched his head thoughtfully, recalling the events of the night. Rebecca scowled at him.

'I'm _waiting_, Carruther.'

'Y'know, you're supposed to call me Brent _Carlisle_ while I'm on Earth. People'll get suspicious.'

'NOW Carruther!'

'Okay, OKAY! Sheesh. Well, I was patrolling the tenth floor, keepin' a close eye on the guests, when I spotted them. I didn't want to worry everyone and cause a big scene, so I just kept my eye on them for a while. But then the mayor came up and started talkin' to me and, I dunno, I lost sight of them. When I managed to get out of the conversation, they were gone. I figured they were up to somethin' sneaky, so I went straight to the third floor. Sure 'nuff, there _he_ was with one 'a them headset thingies. I told him to put it down, but he said no, then pulled out a sonic whatsit and fried this PC I was standin' next to. The sparks got in me eyes and before I knew it, he was up and out the door. But he stopped to give me some cheek before he ran away. The nerve!'

'Then what?' Rebecca asked casually. Brent shrugged.

'Not much else to say, really. Chased him down the fire escape stairs, he grabbed the girl and made off into the night.'

Rebecca appeared to be deep in thought.

'Perhaps we underestimated their strategism. Do you think it likely that Miss Jenkinson has returned home?'

'Nah. That Time Lord is too smart. He would have taken her somewhere safe.'

Rebecca gave the situation a little more careful thought. A cruel smile crept across her cold face.

'Yes, I suppose he would have. But he wouldn't have thought to take her friends and family with him. It's not in his nature. What do you know of her friends and family?'

'Just that she doesn't remember her parents, but she lives with a friend, Nicola Mills. Young woman. Blonde.'

Rebecca stared out into the night. She addressed the Braxan without turning around.

'You have one last chance. Bring Miss Mills here. Find her and bring her here. Gently, of course. We don't want to harm her.'

'We don't?' Brent asked, slightly puzzled. He had been half-heartedly looking forward to a little carnage. Rebecca held a hand up.

'Not yet. Now go. Find Nicola Mills.'

---------

Nicola sighed as her date droned on and on. Secretly, she was envisaging him being dipped slowly in a vat of hot tar, which led to a glazed expression and a lop-sided grin firmly stuck on her face. Her date, a dim-witted football player, thought that she was paying _fantastic_ attention to him, compared to what normal girls would have. He rattled on and on about his favourite teams, just waiting for the moment that she got up, slapped his face and stormed out of the restaurant. She had already lasted ten minutes longer than his personal record, which was five.

Suddenly, the door of the japanese restaurant imploded, sending waiters tumbling and well-dressed women fleeing to the bathroom in hysterics. Nicola got to her feet as her date scrambled for cover. Through the dust that was settling, she could make out the faint outline of man moving purposefully towards her. She gasped and stumbled slightly backwards. Brent's haggard form leered out at her from the mist.

'What's happenin', doll?'

Nicola reached behind her and picked up a spork. With terrifying accuracy, she plunged it down into Brent's leg. He howled with pain, clutching at the plastic eating utensil stuck in his thigh. Nicola back-handed him across the face, sending the Braxan sprawling to the floor. She stumbled slightly as she edged towards the door.

'Who do you think you are, you creep!? I'll teach _you_! "Doll", where do you get off, calling me doll?'

Brent sat up and touched his lip, which had busted open when Nicola had slapped. His eyes burned with a fiery rage.

'Okay now, 'Becca told me to be gentle with you but I can see that you ain't plannin' on co-operatin'! So from now on, we play by my rules!'

Long, snake-like tendrils shot out of nowhere and bound Nicola up, pinning her arms to her side. She screamed as the Braxan rose before her, his true form revealed.

'Alright now, doll,' the alien hissed as he slowly dragged Nicola close to his revolting face.

'Let the games begin.'

---------

Safely back in the TARDIS, the Doctor set about hooking up the game console to the main controls. Sandi sat to the side, head tipped slightly to the right as she watched him flit around the control panels like a hummingbird. It was clear from the delighted expression on his face that the Doctor was clearly impressed.

'This is... this is incredible,' he whispered excitedly, hooking more cables up to the console. Sandi raised an eyebrow.

'What's incredible?'

'I haven't see technology like this since...' The Doctor trailed off, his head bowed reverentially. He closed his eyes and rubbed his head thoughtfully. Sandi was startled to see the beginnings of tears forming amongst his thick eyelashes.

'Doctor? Where have you seen this before?' Sandi asked urgently. The Doctor shook his head, wiped his eyes, then looked up.

'Hmm? Oh. Yes. I was going to say, the last time I saw technology like this was on Gallifrey.'

Sandi's mouth dropped open. She stared at him blankly.

'G-Gallifrey? Your home planet? But I thought that was destroyed in the last Time War!?'

The Doctor nodded and began pacing the floor of the TARDIS swiftly.

'Which is why I'm thoroughly worried. Apart from the _Utopia_, which we already know is shattered into tiny pieces that are no use to anyone, my TARDIS is the only piece of technology left from Gallifrey.'

'So how did Torchlink... Torch_wood_ get their hands on technology from your home world?'

The Doctor threw his hands up and shrugged, slightly discouraged.

'I don't know. I know they don't have time-travel capacity, I would have noticed if they had.'

'Yeah, the TARDIS' scanners would have picked it up in the time vortex, right?'

'Precisely.'

'So... how on earth _did_ this technology get to Earth?'

The Time Lord pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

'I dunno. I have no idea where this came from. Gallifrey was destroyed, I saw it happen...'

'Yeah, the only thing left was the sanctuary ship!'

'Yeah, just that sanctuary shi...' the Doctor trailed off. He looked up sharply and stared at Sandi.

'Sandi... you're a _genius_! A bona-fide genius! You knew the answer all along!'

Sandi stared back, slightly bemused.

'I did?'

The Doctor clapped happily and did a quick, two-step dance across the floor towards her.

'Yep! The sanctuary ship! The Zriekas! It all fits!'

'It does?'

The Doctor caught her by the shoulders.

'Come on now, think. What's the connection between you, the Zriekas, the ship and this Time Lord technology?'

Realisation dawned bright on Sandi's face as the idea hit home with a crashing thud.

'The Daleks!' Sandi shouted. The Doctor clapped and danced away, lighting up the controls of the TARDIS.

'The Daleks! Of course! The Zriekas told you that they had Time Lord technology. Being allies with the Daleks, they would have shared their finds with _them_. Then when Torchwood opened the rift, the void ship came through, bringing with it the remnants of the Time Lord technology that they had been given from the salvage by the Zriekas before the last Time War! Brilliant!'

'So does this mean, since this is in fact _Time Lord_ technology, that you can fix it?'

'It's certainly a possibility.'

'What do you mean, a _possibility_? I thought you knew Time Lord techie-stuff?'

The Doctor shrugged and tossed her the console. Sandi turned it over in her hands, looking at it appraisingly. As he continued to pace the central controls, Sandi looked up at him.

'You know... when I was working on this before, I didn't feel anything. I knew what to do and how to do it, but that wasn't anything different to what a normal designer and programmer would be able to do. Now... now when I look at this, it feels like...'

'Like something you've encountered before?'

Sandi nodded, looking at the back of the console.

_I've seen this before_, came a small voice inside her head. Sandi jumped. The Doctor turned and looked at her.

'What's wrong?'

_Tell him nothing's wrong. No need to make him nervous_.

'Oh, er, nothing... just got a bit of an electric shock,' Sandi bluffed. The Doctor shrugged and went back to work. Inside, Sandi was panicking.

_Shandaiah? Is that you?_

_Of course it's me! Who did you think it was? The Queen of Sheba?_

_You could __warn__ me next time you decide to pipe up! Sheesh, give a girl a heart-attack, won't you?_

_I could if you wanted, you know._

_Er... no. No thanks._

_Well then._

_So? What do you make of this?_

_Hmm... turn it over again, I want a better look._

Sandi obliged, turning the console over again. Shandaiah clicked disapprovingly.

_Okay, now I know I've seen this before. The console's using a form of A.I., a kind of... artificial intelligence. But it's more than that. This intelligence has more than smarts, it has sentience._

_Sentience?_

_It can think for itself. It's much more than a program. It's self-aware, destructive and conscious. This is a dangerous program. You were right not to want anything to do with this._

_Thanks for telling me that now. This would have been useful to know when I was yelling at Rebecca about the stupid program._

_This __is__ from Gallifrey, you know. I've seen it before, just before we left. It was to be the single most deadly weapon against the Daleks._

_What can you tell me about it?_

_Not a lot, but it appears that it was designed to destroy the Daleks' biosuits._

'As far as I can tell, this is, in fact, from Gallifrey,' Sandi relayed innocently back to the Doctor. The time lord spun on his heels and raised an eyebrow.

'Oh yes? And you have the _A to Z on Gallifrey's Most Highly-Advanced Technology_ memorised, do you?'

'No... but I _do_ have the source of all time stuck inside my crainium 'til death do us part.'

'Point taken. What's Time Almighty got to say about this little piece of tin then, eh?'

_You want to enlighten us, then?_ Sandi asked inwardly. Shandaiah scrutinised the console for a while longer, then reached a conclusion.

_It's tactical military. Definitely Time Lord design... far too elegant to be anything designed by a Dalek. Point being, this would have taken a degree of imagination, something only the Cult of Skaro ever possessed and they were far too important to be involved with any silly little Time War. Their existance was to survive, to force the Dalek race forward. This is totally different. This comes from a race that evolved on the basis of imagination and the drive of progress. This is definitive Time Lord. I haven't seen anything like this in hundreds of years..._

_Can we stick to the topic, please?_

_Hmmm? Oh, yes. Like I was saying. Definitely Time Lord. You can tell the Doctor that I said that this is top-level military. Not even he will know how to take this sucker apart. The only people who will know how are the people who designed and created the console and companion game._

Sandi looked up at the Doctor, who was tapping his foot slightly impatiently. He cocked his head to the side, a bright and intelligent look in his eyes.

'So? What's our favourite Time Source got to say about this then, eh?'

'Shandaiah believes that it is top-level military and thinks that not even you would be able to pull it apart.'

'Well, she's definitely right there...'

'She also thinks that the only people that will be able to take it apart are the console and game designers.'

The Doctor fell silent for a moment. Then...

'So... we can't do it alone? I mean, we have you. You designed the game...'

'You'd need one of the console developers as well, minimum of assistant project director.'

'Well, that's useful. What's the likelihood that we can get in touch with the project director or his understudy?'

Sandi's face drained of colour as realisation dawned on her.

'Oh my god... Dirk Evangeline went missing five months ago. He was the project director. Brilliant guy, used to write all sorts of papers for games journalism.'

'Most likely removed in case of something like us happening. Go on.'

Sandi thought hard, the last six months racing through her head.

'After Dirk... who was it? Might've been old Clarence, he retired... can't remember why though... but just before I met you, I _think_ it might have been...'

She clapped her hand over her mouth. The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

'Yes? Who was it?'

Sandi looked at the Time Lord in horror.

'Oh my God... Doctor, I think it was Anderson.'

---------

Nicola struggled frantically at the metallic bonds tethering her to the cold, stone wall. Prince Carruther, genuinely pleased to be free of his human form, moved hypnotisingly slowly in front of her. Nicola looked pointedly away.

'Fear not, dollface, you're not the one I'm really after,' Carruther hissed softly. His hostage kept her eyes squeezed shut to force out the some-what snake-like appearance of her captor. The first time she had seen the _real_ Brent Carlisle, she hadn't been able to believe it. The mad story that Sandi had tried to feed her about the new guy she had landed, who, Nicola reflected in a bittersweet manner, had been rather gorgeous... well, no-one would have swallowed that he was an alien. As in an interstellar traveller, not just an immigrant from Mexico.

However, being chained to a wall in the basement of Torchwood Tower in Canary Wharf with a huge serpent-like creature swishing backwards and forwards in front of her was enough of an indication that maybe, just _maybe_, Sandi had been telling the truth all along.

She still wasn't going to believe that Sandi had come back from the dead, though. That was a bit much.

'Nope, not after you, although you _were_ an interesting side-pursuit,' Carruther muttered, sliding away. Nicola tried to force the terrified feeling away, but it didn't help. She was shaking; still cold and now wet from the water dripping down from leaky pipes, which puzzled her some. Surely an advanced institute like Torchwood would have adequate plumbing?

'You're just the bait. What I'm really afraid is your mate and that gangly boyfriend of hers.'

'Her name is Sandi and that gangly boyfriend of hers is the Doctor, thanks very much,' Nicola snapped back, a lot more bravely than she felt. A half-smile, half-grimace look crossed the Braxan's face.

'Oh yeah, that's right. The alien. Time Lord, 'in 'e? Interesting fella. Heard he was from Gallifrey. Not 'eard of that patch of rock in years.'

'Like I'd know. Sandi didn't tell me anything, just so's you know.'

'I don't think she would have. She's not that stupid. You, on the other hand, you run off at the mouth the moment you think that you're even _remotely_ in danger.'

Nicola closed her mouth and let her eyes fall shamefully to the floor. He was right. She was only trying to save herself. There was far more at stake here than one person. The Doctor had known that. Known it when she'd mentioned Torchlink for the first time at the cafe earlier that day. Known it when he and her friend had returned, out of breath from running, from the headquarters. He'd known all along.

Yet... neither he nor Sandi had bothered to fill her in on the details. She could have helped. She could have done something to aid them. Instead, she was stuck here, tied to a wall with a giant snake for company. She wondered if they knew where she was. Or if they were even going to come and set her free.

_No!_ came a small voice in the back of her mind.

_That's not the way you think! That's him! That's that... snake-thing getting inside your head! He's trying to make you work against Sandi and the Doctor!_

_But I'm right, aren't I? Sandi and that Doctor boy of hers aren't coming. They'd be here by now if they were, calvary in tow. If they're such big damn heroes, where are they then?_

Silence. Nicola raised her head to look head-on at the Braxan, who sat regarding her with a cool, reptillian stare. He raised a scaly eyebrow.

'Yes?'

'Suppose... suppose... and I'm not saying that they _aren't_, but, y'know...'

'Sandi doesn't come to the rescue?'

'She doesn't even know where I am.'

'Then I'll probably be forced to kill you.'

More silence. Carruther turned away for a moment, allowing the dread to settle in Nicola's mind. Then, just when he thought that she was going to stay strong...

'Wait. Maybe I can help you...' Nicola shouted across the room, guilt already burning on her face. Carruther grinned; a terrifying, evil distortion of mirth. He turned slowly, straightening his face. His captive was staring helplessly at the floor again.

'What makes you think that you can aid me, Miss Mills?'

'Tell me,' Nicola whispered, resigning herself to the truth, that she was betraying her best friend and her rescuer.

'Just tell me what to do...'

---------

'So now what?' Sandi asked the Doctor as he danced around the console, lighting up various panels. The TARDIS began making a low whooshing sound. The Doctor stared at her as if she was slightly slow on the uptake.

'Sorry? Oh, right. This Anderson chap, what can you tell me about him?'

Sandi pulled a face and scratched her head absently.

'Dunno, really. He was just a departmental aide for so long. Then, overnight, he becomes a project director. No warning, just a memo one morning in everyone's inbox. I tell you, there were a _lot_ of noses put out of joint over that.'

The Doctor managed a slight grin as he watched the central TARDIS controls carefully.

'Including yours?'

'Oh hell no. You couldn't pay me enough to be authority. Nope, I prefer the behind-the-scenes work. It's a thankless job, this. If I wanted fame, I would have written a book or become a popstar.'

'Oh, I dunno. The way _Idol_'s going, I think you might actually be in with a chance,' the Doctor hit back without thinking first and immediately regretted it. Sandi gaped incredulously.

'You _what_? Thanks _very_ much!'

'I didn't mean it like _that_! You humans take _everything_ the wrong way!'

Silence fell uneasily over the pair. The Doctor thought to himself for a moment.

'I suppose congratulations are in order.'

Sandi raised an eyebrow warily.

'Oh? What for?'

'You've been on my, well, frankly _wonderful_ spaceship for some time now and you haven't asked me about it being bigger on the inside.'

'Oh.' Sandi looked around at the familiar surroundings of the TARDIS. The Doctor waited patiently. She looked back at him, an unabashedly unimpressed look on her face.

'Was I supposed to?'

The Doctor's mouth dropped open. Sandi shrugged casually.

'I thought all alien spaceships were like this. Plus, when we first met, I _was_ being chased by Zriekas bent on killing me, ripping my head open and extracting my brain. Sometimes, you miss the small details.'

'And here I was, being all impressive and handsome and heroic! Note to self, the next assistant will be impressionable,' the Doctor said in mock-seriousness. Sandi grinned wickedly.

'Okay, then, why _is_ it bigger on the inside, then? Ten points if you give me a straight answer. Fifty if you give it to me in layman's terms.'

The Doctor grinned angelicly.

'Then I guess I'll have to settle with _null points_,' he replied, emphasising the french wording. Sandi laughed.

'Humans, one, Time Lord, nil!'

'Nope. Humans: half, Time Lord: half, Doctor: too busy to care. Come on, I need a hand up here.'

Sandi opened her mouth to protest, but the Doctor was already dancing madly around the central console, hammering at parts with the rubber mallet he kept handy. Resigning herself to helping out, she dragged herself to her feet and stumbled over to assist.

'You didn't say much about Anderson? Tell me more! I need to know!' The Doctor shouted over the roar of the TARDIS engines. Sandi clutched at the console as the TARDIS bucked sharply.

'You met him, remember? The guy who sent us up to Granger? That's him. Poor sod didn't even realise what was being asked of him.'

'You didn't think to introduce the project manager?'

'Well, in case you didn't notice, you were off like a shot before I had even opened my mouth to start the niceties. It's your own fault, you know.'

'So bring me up to date! We don't have all the time in the world, you know!'

'Like I said, just a memo one morning. It's odd though. Anderson doesn't have any practical experience in game design at _all_.'

'Probably removing anyone in power who knew about the flaws in the game. An aide wouldn't know diddley-squat about some high-tech gizmo that the programmers and designers came up with. All he'd be interested in would be the big, fat pay rise,' the Doctor mused as the TARDIS shuddered to a halt. He skidded down the ramp and grabbed his coat from the railing. He spun around at looked at Sandi.

'Well come on! We haven't got until the end of the world!'

Sandi's footsteps rang on metal as she followed him. Bursting through the TARDIS doors, she skidded to a halt and stared. They had landed in a deserted building; old and crumbling, with half the windows smashed in, most likely from rocks thrown from the pavement three floors below. Sandi looked at the Doctor, who was clearly more occupied with something he was holding.

'Where are we?'

'Should be somewhere close,' the Doctor muttered vaguely, holding up the sonic screwdriver, which was quietly humming in his hand. Sandi narrowed her eyes.

'What are you doing?'

'Braxans give off a distinct psychic energy trace when they've fed. Thoughts lined with ideas and laced with a dash of imagination would be what I'd call it.'

'But I thought we were looking for Anderson?'

The Doctor lowered his hand and stared at her gravely.

'You said they knew where you lived.'

Realisation dropped with a nasty clunk as Sandi's hands flew to her mouth and colour drained from her face.

'Oh my god. They've got Nicola!'

---------

Carruther hissed sharply and looked skyward. Nicola, finally free of her chains, looked at him.

'What is it?'

'He's here. The Doctor and that... _girl_, they're here.'

'It's about time. I could've been dead by now.'

'Ah, but you're not, are you?'

'You promised me, Carlisle,' Nicola said threateningly and the Braxan prince shuddered at his Earth name.

'You said that if I gave you the Doctor, you wouldn't hurt Sandi. That you'd let me go.'

'A deal's a deal, dollface. I said _you_ wouldn't be hurt and Sandi would be taken care of.'

Nicola held her head in shame. She couldn't believe that she had turned over her memories of Sandi, just to get out alive. Carruther grinned at her. The creature's smile horrified her.

'So what now?'

'Now, precious, now you start screaming for help. Another few minutes and I'm _certain_ they'll find you.'

Nicola swallowed the lump in her throat. Then, she took in a deep breath, the kind babies take just before they let out a primal scream when they throw a tantrum. Lifting her head up and staring at the ceiling, Nicola began to scream.

---------

'HHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'

The scream echoed off the walls and assaulted the ears of the Doctor and Sandi. Sandi dropped to her knees and clapped her hands over her ears as the Doctor quickly tucked the sonic screwdriver in his inside jacket pocket and reached for her hand.

'Run!' The Doctor shouted, grabbing her wrist and jerking her along with him. They ran to the end of the corridor where the TARDIS had landed and opening the rusty fire escape door, which nearly fell off their hinges. The Doctor frowned at the obvious state of disrepair.

'Now come on, think think think, why would a Braxan use a place like this to hold a victim? This makes no sense,' he grumbled aloud as the pair pounded the steps towards the ear-splitting screaming.

'Is it just me, or do we always seem to be running full-pelt down stairs like this?' Sandi puffed, struggling to keep pace with her long-legged companion. The Doctor halted abruptly. Sandi crashed into his back unceremoniously, nearly sending them _both_ flying. The Doctor grabbed her shoulders, a wild grin dancing on his lips.

'Of course! Sandi, you're a genius! It's the _stairs_! Why didn't I see it before? He's a _Braxan_... of course, it makes sense! The underground city of Braxi III, I'd _totally_ forgotten,' he said, padding down the steps at a slower rate, obviously satisfied that he'd hit the answer. Sandi probed him for more information.

'What does being a Braxan have to do with this?'

The Doctor rounded on her and looked at her as if he were explaining this for the nineteenth time.

'Carlisle's a Braxan, yeah? Means that that human form he's been taking isn't his real shape. Braxans aren't humanoid like Time Lords. They're herpetoid.'

'Herpetoid?'

'Means they look more like snakes.'

'Oh. Go on.'

'Anyway, on Braxi III, the immortal city of Loorie supposedly has a massive subterranian level, which is where they keep thousands of slaves. A Braxan can't think for itself, can't imagine, can't come up with new ideas, nothing. They rely on the thoughts and minds of others to stop them going completely insane. This does, however, make them excellent trackers. No internal thoughts, perfect concentration and a mind like a finely tuned digital aerial capable of detecting the nightmare off a single-celled amoeboid at two thousand miles.'

'Oh wonderful. Here's me thinking John Edward was good.'

The Doctor gave Sandi a warm smile.

'Oh, my old mate Johnno? Nah, he's only half-Braxan. Come on, work to do. We gotta go save your friend.'

They jumped the last few stairs to land on cold concrete in the sub-basement. The air was stale and chilly, holding a deep sense of foreboding. It was clear that they weren't welcome. The Doctor grew very serious; his boyish face was suddenly stern and cold, his eyes deep with ancient wisdom and fury. The pair forwarded on, following the screams that echoed down the halls to them. As they reached the final corner, the Doctor suddenly turned to Sandi and grabbed both her hands. She looked at him, slightly afraid.

'Doctor, what's wrong?'

'Everything,' he said quietly, as they were assaulted by fresh screams. Sandi looked confused.

'What do you mean, "everything"? I thought this is where we're meant to be! I _said_ we should have turned left back there...'

'No, it's not that. This screaming... if Carlisle was _really_ hurting Nicola, we wouldn't hear a thing...'

'You know, I really _hate_ smart guys,' came a cold voice from behind them. Sandi looked up and screamed as Brent Carlisle/Carruther brought a heavy book down on top of the Doctor's head. The Time Lord groaned, his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the floor. Sandi dropped her knees and grabbed the Doctor's hand as Brent swung the book upwards for a second blow. She leapt up, clearing the Doctor's fallen form and crash-tackling the Braxan to the ground. The serpent-like being gasped as Sandi latched her hands around its throat and pressed down as hard as she could.

'No-one hurts _my_ Doctor!' Sandi roared, throwing all her weight behind her arms, pinning the snake creature to the ground. Carlisle wheezed as the girl atop him forced the air from his lungs and cut off his windpipe. Something else was happening. Her fury was pulsing through her, he could feel it... an unimaginable power flowing through her, rendering him helpless. Things were starting to go dark...

_THUNK_

Sandi's grip slackened and she released Carlisle's throat. She keeled over and lay unconscious next to the Doctor. The Braxan looked up to see Nicola standing over them. She clutched the heavy book that he had dropped when Sandi had launched herself at him.

Carlisle/Carruther's cold laughter rang out through the halls as Nicola wept in disgrace.


End file.
